


The Road to Love

by flipflop_diva



Category: Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? - Bryan Ferry (Music Video)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: He meets her in a bar. She writes her number on his palm. He doesn't bother to ask her name.





	The Road to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karaokegal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karaokegal/gifts).



_Will you still love me tomorrow?_

He pushes her up against the wall, nothing else on his mind except her and him and this moment. Not what happened before this moment, not what will happen after it.

She’s already panting, eyes full of lust. She’s clawing at him, fingers digging into the edges of his suit jacket and his shirt and his belt buckle and his pants. Clothes are coming off as he presses her into the wall, not being careful this time not to hurt her. A bruise will be a reminder.

She hooks her legs around his waist and now she’s making little noises. Grunts in the back of her throat. Happy, sad, he can’t tell but he also doesn’t care. He just pushes his face against her chest, buries them between her breasts.

His fingers are digging into her hips and she’s already moving against his already hard cock.

Somehow he manages to get her dress up past her hips, manages to push the top down below her breasts. He thinks maybe there was a rip somewhere but he doesn’t care.

He lifts his head, and now she’s kissing him and he’s kissing her back, but it’s less about kissing and more about dominance, a game of who has more control, of who can make the other hurt the most. His lips press into hers, bruising and rough. She bites down on his lower lip, and between the kisses and the sucking he tastes blood.

He uses the force of his lips, the force of his head, to push hers back against the wall. She twists in his arms, rocking against him even harder.

He reaches down to his cock, gets it inside her an instant later, and she gasps into his mouth, and then she’s biting him again, but this time they are moving against each other.

He grunts as they move. She moans. He groans. He can feel her body hitting the wall each time they move. He can feel his legs getting tired, from the motion, from lifting her. But he doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop either. They just keep going, rocking against each other, until she’s screaming in his arms, and he keeps going even more until it’s his turn to unload into her.

She slides out of his arms and down the wall once he’s finished, and he leans his forehead against the cool surface. He doesn’t bother to look down at her. He’s not sure he wants to see her.

_Will you still love me tomorrow?_

He meets her in a dusty old bar that’s had better days. She’s sitting at the counter, legs crossed, a beer in her hand. She smiles at him after he orders, asks him what he’s doing here.

He fucks her in the bathroom a few drinks later, her ass hanging off the sink as they thrust together while someone outside pounds on the door and tells them to hurry. They laugh as they finish, the pounding of the person outside never stopping, and he offers to buy her another drink. She scratches her number on his palm before she leaves, and it’s not till he’s at home in his bed later that night, his hand wrapped around his dick, reimagining every detail of his night, that he realizes he doesn’t even know her name.

He doesn’t call her. He was never planning to call her, but he does go back to the bar, and he isn’t surprised to see her there again. She doesn’t seem surprised to see him either. He sits two barstools down from her and nods as she smiles and orders a beer. They fuck again in the bathroom a couple drinks later, and it’s better than the first time. She sucks him off to warm him up while he sticks his fingers in her ass.

“You didn’t call me,” she says with a wink, just as she swallows him down, and he is too busy groaning to even think about responding.

She comes home with him after the third time. He doesn’t ask her to, but he doesn’t say no when she slips into his car and gives him that same sly smile she gave him the first time he met her.

He gets her a glass of gin from the bar, but they don’t make it to the first sip nor do they make it any further than the kitchen. He goes down on her as she spreads her legs on the kitchen island, then lies on the floor as she rides him to new highs.

_Will you still love me tomorrow?_

Sometimes, in the still quiet hours after she has left and his high is fading, he wonders what would happen if he asks her out on a real date. If they go to a restaurant for an overly fancy dinner. If they go to the theater with her handing off his arm. If they curl up together on the couch and watch old movies and drink cheap beer and munch on popcorn before having sex right there on the couch.

But he never gets farther than a split second of wonder. 

He thinks also about not going to the bar again, about not sitting near to her, about not letting her follow him to the bathroom. But he knows it’s fruitless to think about stopping.

Tonight, though, he doesn’t have a choice. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tell him that this is it, that after this he will never see her again, but he knows. It’s in the look in her eyes and the way that she smiles, and she isn’t the first woman he’s done this dance with.

So he stands there by the wall, keeps his forehead pressed to the cool surface, and doesn’t move or look around when she slides out from underneath him. He knows she’s getting dressed, knows she’s putting back on her coat.

She presses a soft kiss to his cheek once she is ready, and he still doesn’t look at her, just stands there listening until his front door has clicked closed and the sound of a car driving away can no longer be heard.

He thinks this is the closest he has ever gotten to love, maybe will ever get to love.

He still never even knew her name.


End file.
